Movie Muser

A lot of people are comparing this story to The Imitation Game. Both feature Oxbridge students doing vastly clever stuff in the face of disbelieving dons, while discovering their own human failings, especially in the romance department. If it is a straight competition though this would win hands down. It has far more depth, far more of a sense of stake, is way better acted, and the script is superior. The real surprise is how funny it is too – there are several really great comedic moments.

We all think we know the story of Stephen Hawking, but here we get all the gaps filled in. A brilliant academic, his career and life looks set to rise as high as the stars he gazes at so longingly at night, until he is diagnosed with incurable motor neurone disease. He has met the apparent love of his life, Jane, and fully expects her to leave him – however she is made of sterner stuff. In terms of plot not an awful lot more happens that that – their marriage is tested to the full as his body fails him, and finally his voice gives way, but the film remains riveting thanks to their fascinating relationship.

The real heart of the film centres around the difference between his and her beliefs. Jane is Church of England, sings in the choir and believes in a higher power. Stephen has come up with his theory of time, which appears to prove that there may indeed be a creator – but not necessarily a god. Later he does a spectacular U-turn and throws his lot entirely in with physics, but does that leave any room for spirituality – or, indeed, for poor Jane. If it sounds dry and academic it certainly isn’t. Their arguments and make-ups are played out with tremendous passion and humility, especially as his disease worsens. The religious symbolism gets a little heavy-handed at times, and one scene seems to contradict the entire previous hour of story, but in the end it just about gets away with its central problem

When Jane is run ragged with looking after Stephen and their children, her mother – great cameo from Emily Watson – suggests she joins the choir, to re-find her beliefs. She does, but falls heavily for the choirmaster (Charlie Cox), and her real challenge begins. Stephen actually appears to like his rival, but when they all go on holiday an event threatens to split them apart.

For such a thin plot the film packs in an awful lot – arguments about why are we here, the nature of the universe, whether there’s a god – in a thoroughly entertaining and engaging way. That’s in no small part due to the quality of the acting. Eddie Redmayne will probably walk off with a fistful of awards, and rightly so – he never overdoes things, and as Hawking’s disease worsens his sense of humour and humanity increases. It’s truly amazing what he does with a flick of an eyebrow or a smile – one scene has Jane telling him to behave himself on a trip, and his smirk is a truly wonderful moment. The film allows him one moment away from the nuts-and-bolts storytelling, a dream sequence right at the end, but it has probably just about earnt it by then.

If Redmayne is the star of the show everyone else is his equal, from David Thewlis as his proud don, to Maxine Peake as his speech therapist – shades of My Left Foot here. Even Felicity Jones is fine, toning down her usual drip of water routine to deliver a performance of real passion.

Overall verdict: A tremendous piece of storytelling which covers up some of its problematic central themes with warmth, wit and some truly heavyweight acting. One to be savoured and cherished, like Hawking says, where there is life there is hope.

Reviewer: Tim Isaac

If the Oscar buzz is to be believed Michael Keaton is already nailed on for Best Actor for his performance as a desperate, washed-up actor trying to resurrect his career in this knowing drama.

Keaton is excellent, it’s true, but he has also admitted that the character is as far from his real persona as it’s possible to be – and at times it shows. It’s supposed to be a portrait of an actor stripped bare, trying his hardest to do something worthwhile but failing at every turn and constantly retreating into a fantasy world, complete with voices in his head and apparent powers of telekinesis. In a way though, the film is a flawed as his own ambitions.

Keaton is Riggan, an ageing actor whose claim to fame is that he was the star of three superhero movies, playing Birdman. It has made him famous and a lot of cash – much of which he has blown – but now, with no offers from Hollywood, he has returned to New York to write, direct and star in a stage version of a Raymond Carver short story, What We Talk About When We Talk About Love.

That story is all about honesty, raw human emotion, which is exactly what is missing from Riggan’s version, which we first see in rehearsals. His leading man is awful, but right in the middle of a big scene a light falls on his head and he has to be replaced.

In comes Ed Norton’s Mike, a talented actor but boy is he a pain – constantly rewriting scenes, insisting on cuts and basically trying to direct the play himself – ring any bells? It’s the least of Riggan’s problems, as we learn over the next two hours. He is a recovering alcoholic, prone to fits of rage, divorced from Amy Ryan and employing his own daughter (Emma Stone) as a dogsbody as she is basically unemployable, being as much of a car wreck as her dad.

Riggan has money troubles, he is bored with his Birdman persona but has huge doubts over whether he is good enough to pull the play off. He is also terrified he has impregnated one of his cast (Andrea Riseborough), has constant fights with his agent (Zach Galifianakis) over money, and then there is a real enemy to deal with.

Lindsay Duncan plays Tabitha, the fearsome theatre critic of the New York Times who has already decided to ‘destroy’ Riggan’s play even before she has seen it. It’s a brilliant cameo by Duncan, full of spite and bile, and the film’s structure of long takes and continuous flow suits her perfectly.

As Riggan’s rehearsals turn into previews and builds up to the big press night will he pull himself together and deliver a great performance or will the whole thing collapse as it threatens to do all through the film?

The style of the film is both its strength and its weakness. Long takes, with Keaton walking around his ‘shithole’ theatre barking orders and mumbling to himself, are technically impressive but begin to irk after a while. It’s supposed to suggest one period of time but, as usual, Hitchcock did it years ago, and to better effect – Rope is exhibit A.

Then there’s the central idea – it’s all very green room, there are way too many jokes about fading stars who have made money in superhero movies and are now washed up. Keaton was Batman, Norton was the Hulk and even Emma Stone was in Spider-Man – yep, we get it, it’s a joke, now can we move on? Even the theatre itself is used as a gag, it’s actually not the fleapit the actors keep insisting it is but one of the nicest theatres on Broadway – hilarious.

There is also a hugely irritating jazz soundtrack which, every time it blares into life drowns out Keaton’s speech. He was never the easiest actor to understand – remember his mumbling through Beetlejuice? Ultimately it’s Keaton’s performance which keeps us interested though, and by the time he starts hallucinating that he is actually Birdman and can fly through the streets of New York, planning his return to Hollywood, he’s clearly gone mad but we stick with him.

It’s clearly supposed to be a portrayal of a man crumbling before our very eyes but it often takes too many liberties with him and stretches patience, yet Keaton’s crumbling face, balding pate and sagging body does evoke sympathy. One scene destined to be replayed on YouTube constantly, where he gets locked out of his own theatre and has to walk through Times Square in just his underpants, signing autographs as he goes, is not quite the tour de force it is supposed to be.

Overall verdict: A fascinating look at an actor falling apart before our very eyes, which is a technical marvel, but which never quite hits the heights of the Birdman himself flying through the sky. Keaton delivers an interesting performance, backed up by solid performances from his supporting cast, but somehow it never quite adds up to more than the sum of its parts. The trickery, with time speeded up and audiences suddenly appearing in a previously empty theatre, is impressive, but somehow adds to the emptiness that is at the heart of the tale. It should have been a barnstormer of a film, instead it feels a little thin, like Keaton’s hair.

Reviewer: Mike Martin